Chapter 6: Dangerous Encounters

The silent hallways of Hankuk Elite Academy stretched before Soo-jin like an elegant labyrinth. With the majority of students still gathered in the main hall or exploring other areas of the campus, she had a rare opportunity to investigate without drawing attention. Her footsteps echoed softly against the polished marble floors as she navigated the sprawling building, mentally mapping each corridor and stairwell.

Her destination was clear: Min-ah's former classroom. While the school had returned her sister's personal belongings, Soo-jin knew institutional spaces often held overlooked traces notes hidden in under the desk or it's corners, markings on the shoe lockers, or other subtle clues that might illuminate what had happened before that rainy night.

The classroom assigned to Min-ah's cohort was on the third floor of the east wing. Soo-jin climbed the ornate staircase, noting security camera placements and blind spots with a fighter's situational awareness. After three months of preparation, she felt like a soldier entering enemy territory, acutely conscious that discovery could compromise her mission before it truly began.

A beam of afternoon sunlight sliced through tall windows, casting long shadows across the corridor as Soo-jin approached Min-ah's former classroom. The door stood slightly ajar, suggesting she wasn't the first to seek out this space during the orientation period. She paused, listening for voices or movement within. Hearing nothing, she reached for the handle.

"What do you think you're doing?"

The deep voice came from behind her, startling despite her trained reflexes. Soo-jin turned slowly, maintaining her composure with practiced discipline.

A male student leaned against the wall several feet away, arms crossed over a broad chest. He was tall—taller even than the boy with glasses she'd bumped into earlier—with a muscular build that his partially unbuttoned uniform shirt did nothing to conceal. The school blazer was entirely absent, the white shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with muscle. A hint of black ink peeked from beneath his collar, suggesting a tattoo that would be another clear violation of the strict dress code.

Everything about him screamed trouble not the performative rebellion of students playing at being bad, but the genuine article. His stance, his expression, the way his eyes assessed her with predatory focus all reminded Soo-jin of fighters she'd encountered in less reputable gyms, the kind who competed for money rather than sport.

She offered no answer, choosing instead to step away from the classroom door and continue down the hallway. Engaging would only draw attention she couldn't afford.

"Hey, I'm talking to you," the guy called after her, his tone casual but underlaid with something harder. When she didn't respond, she heard him push off from the wall and follow. "New students aren't supposed to be wandering around alone during orientation."

Soo-jin increased her pace slightly, scanning ahead for other people or security cameras. The hallway remained deserted—a circumstance that suddenly seemed less fortunate than it had moments ago.

"I asked you a question," he said, closer now. She could hear the controlled aggression in his voice, the tone of someone accustomed to intimidating others. "What were you doing at that classroom?"

She stopped and turned, maintaining precise distance between them. "Looking for the bathroom," she lied smoothly. "I took a wrong turn."

His eyes dark and too intelligent for comfort narrowed slightly. "Bathrooms are clearly marked with signs. And orientation for new students is in the main building."

"I got lost," Soo-jin replied, her voice neutral. She moved to step around him. "If you'll excuse me."

What happened next occurred with startling speed. His hand shot out, fingers circling her upper arm in a grip just tight enough to demonstrate strength without leaving marks. The move was practiced, efficient the action of someone who knew exactly how much pressure to apply for maximum control with minimum evidence.

"I don't think you're lost at all," he said, his voice dropping lower. "I think you're exactly where you meant to be. Question is, why?"

Soo-jin's combat training kicked in automatically. She twisted her arm outward against his thumb the weakest point of any grip while simultaneously stepping into his space rather than pulling away. The unexpected movement loosened his hold just enough for her to break contact.

But rather than retreating, he adjusted with fluid speed that took her by surprise, recapturing her wrist in a textbook control hold that spoke of formal training.

"Nice move," he said, something like appreciation flickering in his eyes. "Not what I expected from a scholarship student."

The fact that he knew she was on scholarship information not publicly announced—sent a chill down Soo-jin's spine. This wasn't a random encounter. This person knew who she was.

Shifting her weight to her back foot, Soo-jin executed a wrist escape technique her coach had drilled into her countless times, breaking the hold with a sharp circular motion. She immediately established distance, moving into an open stance that would give her mobility without telegraphing her training too obviously.

"Don't touch me again," she said quietly, the first direct command she'd issued since their encounter began.

Something dangerous flashed across his face not quite anger, but a predator's interest in unexpected resistance. He advanced slowly, his movements controlled and measured in a way that confirmed Soo-jin's initial assessment: this was someone with serious fight training.

"You've got unusual skills for a first-year," he observed, circling slightly to her left. "Most scholarship students know to keep their heads down, especially on their first day."

Soo-jin mirrored his movement, maintaining distance while analyzing his stance for weaknesses. His balance was impeccable, weight distributed evenly in a way that would allow him to attack or defend from multiple angles. This wasn't street brawling or amateur enthusiasm this was the positioning of someone with years of dedicated training.

When he moved again, it was with deceptive casualness a seemingly relaxed step forward that suddenly transformed into a grappling shoot, aiming to control her lower body. Soo-jin sprawled reflexively, dropping her hips back while keeping her upper body forward to prevent the takedown.

They disengaged and reset, now openly circling each other in the empty hallway. The pretense of a casual encounter had vanished entirely.

"Sprawl defense," he noted, rolling his shoulders slightly. "Formal training. MMA? Wrestling?"

Soo-jin didn't respond, focused entirely on reading his next move. When it came, it was a lightning-fast clinch attempt arms seeking to control her upper body while his right leg hooked behind her knee for a trip takedown.

She countered with a textbook underhook, securing her arm beneath his to neutralize the upper body control while simultaneously stepping wide with her threatened leg to avoid the trip. For a moment, they were locked together in a technical stalemate, neither able to secure dominant position.

Breaking the clinch, Soo-jin spun out and reestablished distance, her breathing carefully controlled despite the exertion. This wasn't the mindless aggression of a bully—this was calculated assessment, a fighter testing another fighter's capabilities.

"Who are you?" she demanded, keeping her voice low despite their isolation in the hallway.

Instead of answering, he moved forward again, this time feinting high before dropping for a double-leg takedown attempt. Soo-jin sprawled again but found herself caught in a surprisingly technical transition as he shifted to a single-leg control, threatening her balance from a new angle.

She countered by hopping on her free leg while using her upper body weight to pressure his head downward a classic defense that should have forced him to abandon the attempt. Instead, he seamlessly transitioned to a trip, using her hopping momentum against her.

For a precarious moment, Soo-jin felt her balance compromised. She tucked her chin and prepared to roll with the fall, minimizing impact while positioning for an immediate recovery. But before either of them could complete their techniques, a sharp voice cut through the tension.

"What's going on here?"

A security guard in the school's navy uniform stood at the end of the hallway, hand resting pointedly on his radio. "This area is restricted during orientation."

The interruption created a split-second opportunity that Soo-jin seized without hesitation. She disengaged completely, using the momentary distraction to put several meters between herself and her mysterious opponent. Without a backward glance, she turned and walked briskly in the opposite direction from the guard, rounding the corner before breaking into a controlled run.

Behind her, she could hear the guard approaching the other student.

"Sir, are you alright? Who was that student?" The deferential tone in the guard's voice registered even through Soo-jin's elevated pulse. Not the way security typically addressed students even senior ones.

"It's fine. Nothing to worry about," came the casual response, the deep voice carrying easily through the empty hallway.

Soo-jin didn't slow until she had descended two flights of stairs and crossed to an entirely different wing of the building. Finding an empty bathroom, she locked herself in a stall and allowed her heart rate to normalize, reviewing what had just occurred.

The encounter had revealed several critical pieces of information: First, someone at the school knew who she was and was watching her movements. Second, that person had combat training that matched or exceeded her own. Third, and perhaps most troubling, he appeared to hold enough authority that even security staff addressed him deferentially.

As her breathing steadied, Soo-jin's mind raced with implications. Had this person known Min-ah? Had he been involved in whatever had happened to her sister? Or was his interest in Soo-jin unrelated—simply the school's power structure identifying and testing a potential threat to its hierarchy?

Either way, the encounter had confirmed what she'd already suspected: Hankuk Elite Academy was far more dangerous than its prestigious exterior suggested. And someone within its walls was already watching her.

Soo-jin straightened her uniform and exited the bathroom stall, checking her appearance in the mirror to ensure no signs of the confrontation remained visible. Her reflection stared back, composed and determined despite the encounter that would have terrified most students.

She wasn't most students. And unlike Min-ah, she had come prepared for war.